Harem Startup : The Demon Billionaire is on Vacation-Chapter 377: You Can Calm Me Down

Chapter 377 – You Can Calm Me Down

Naomi’s lips parted. Her eyes softened. "Lux..."

He leaned closer again, brushing her temple with his lips, whispering with the casual ease of a man planning a genocide in balance sheets.

"I’m going to bankrupt them, Naomi. No... more than that. More than what I did to Carson."

She shivered.

Not from fear.

From the sheer inevitability in his voice.

The way he said it—casual, soft, like he was planning brunch instead of economic annihilation.

And she loved him more for it.

Because this wasn’t just power.

It was controlled, calculated vengeance.

It was the kind of threat that came gift-wrapped in contracts and bled its victims out through overdraft fees. 𝙛𝓻𝒆𝒆𝒘𝙚𝓫𝙣𝙤𝒗𝙚𝓵.𝙘𝙤𝙢

She touched his chest gently, her palm flat against silk. "You need to calm down first."

Lux tilted his head. That smirk played at the corner of his mouth again. But this one? Less CFO, more Incubus.

"I can’t," he said, voice low, thick. His hand slid along her waist, fingers grazing the bare sliver of skin between her dress.

He leaned closer.

Paused.

Then murmured, "Well... you can calm me down."

She raised an eyebrow, already knowing exactly where this was going. "Lux..."

He smirked wider.

That smug bastard.

"You know what I mean..." His voice dipped, fingers teasing the fabric of her dress. "I did tell you this morning, didn’t I?"

She tried to glare. Really. But then his hand slid down her back, warm and sure and just a little too practiced.

"I said I needed you to squeeze me for a round or two..." he whispered against her ear, his breath making her neck prickle. "And look at you now. You look stunning."

"Lux," she groaned, heat blooming in her cheeks. "I just got home from work. I—look—yes, everyone told me I looked great today. I know. Even the old bastard in procurement tried to flirt, and the negotiation went smoother than silk sliding off your smirk, but—"

She let out a huff. "I haven’t even bathed yet."

Without hesitation, Lux perked up like a puppy offered a treat. "I’ll bathe you!"

"What—Lux—"

"No, seriously." He grinned and scooped her up like she weighed nothing. "Problem solved. I’ll do it. You don’t need to lift a single finger."

"Wait—hold on—Lux!" she squeaked, gripping his shoulders. "I smell like boardroom and recycled air!"

"I like the taste of capitalism," he said seriously.

She slapped his chest, face burning. "You’re insane!"

"Naomi," he said, tone dramatically pained as he walked down the hall with her in his arms. "You wound me. All I wanted was to help cleanse your soul."

"Don’t act holy now," she grumbled, cheeks still hot.

Then she saw it.

That look.

He was giving her those stupid puppy eyes.

That wounded, hopeful expression he wore like a weapon.

The one that made him look like a kicked golden retriever in a thousand-dollar suit.

The one that could probably get him forgiven for war crimes if he tilted his head just right.

"Damn you," she whispered, glaring down at him. "Damn you."

He pouted. Actually pouted.

She sighed through her teeth. "Fine."

His eyes sparkled immediately. "Really?"

"Yes, we can bathe together. But only because I’m too tired to fight."

"Excellent decision," he declared. "And don’t worry. I’ll handle everything. You don’t need to move a muscle."

She gave him a side-eye.

He winked.

His room was warm.

Lit by soft glows and brushed gold trim.

The air smelled like him—spiced cologne, ozone, and forbidden contracts.

And the bathroom?

Oh, the bathroom.

Massive. Marble. Mirrors from floor to ceiling, charmed to adjust lighting depending on mood. The bath itself was carved from obsidian, etched in infernal runes that pulsed with a gentle warmth. The water inside shimmered—not just hot, but magically treated. Relaxation mana, anti-fatigue enchantments, oils of honey-vanilla and something far more sinful.

He set her down gently on the edge of the bath, like a treasure he was polishing for display.

"You planned this," Naomi said.

"I always plan," Lux replied, already unbuttoning his shirt with deliberate slowness. "But this? This is improv." Yeah, he knew he would do a lot of sex, so he already requested how much enhancement in his room.

Her eyes followed the motion of his fingers. His chest. The curve of his collarbone.

Yeah, he definitely knew what he was doing.

She folded her arms. "I still smell like stale coffee and resentment."

"And I love you anyway."

Naomi blinked.

Lux froze too.

Then recovered.

Smiled.

Soft. Genuine.

"I mean, I’m contractually obligated to say that," he added smoothly. "You’ve got shares in my soul."

She rolled her eyes. "You’re lucky I find you hot."

He stepped closer. "I’m lucky you let me in at all."

And just like that—he turned it emotional again. The bastard.

She didn’t reply. Didn’t have to.

Instead, she stood and reached for the hem of her dress.

His eyes tracked her movements, slow and reverent.

Naomi stripped layer by layer—top, bra, dress, thigh-highs—until she stood bare in front of him, lit by warm light and the shimmer of bathwater beside her.

Lux’s eyes darkened. Hunger flickered.

But he didn’t lunge.

Didn’t devour.

He stepped behind her. Fingers soft on her shoulders. Lips brushing the nape of her neck.

"I’ll wash your back," he murmured.

"You better."

He helped her into the bath like she was royalty. Carefully. Slowly. Letting her sink into the water until her body relaxed fully, sighing as the tension of the day melted away.

She leaned back. He joined her moments later.

And then—hands.

Gentle at first. Soft lather. Delicate massaging of her shoulders, her neck, her arms.

But then his fingers slid lower. Between her thighs. Along her hips. Against her stomach.

"You said you’d wash me," she murmured, breath shaky.

"I am," he said, kissing the shell of her ear. "Thoroughly."

She groaned. "Of course you are."

But she didn’t stop him.

Didn’t pull away.

Because she’d earned this.

And Lux Vaelthorn?

Was better than any spa package.